Page 34 of Twisted
He takes his hand off me and reaches inside his suit jacket, pulling out a thumb drive.“Consider this a wedding present,” he says and sets it on my dresser.
“What is it?”
“Files,” he starts as he strides back over.“From the Order.”His large fingers close around my wrist once more and he gives me a gentle tug.I willingly let my body move closer to his.He’s tall and firm and,fuck, he smells good.“You thought they hadn’t been keeping records of you.Turns out they have.”
CHAPTER15
“You need to stop dropping bombs like that when I don’t have time to seek shelter.”My eyes widen and I look from him to the USB on the dresser.
“I suppose that was poor timing,” he agrees.“We can look at it together when we get back.”
“You haven’t seen them yet?”
“No.I was told by my contact that it’s mostly medical records.”
My eyes fall shut as I shake my head.“I never went when everyone else got physicals.”
“Do you know why?”
“All the hunters in the same age group went at the same time and not everyone was happy I was a witch.”I shrug as I shake my head again.“It was like Vivian and Marco were worried I’d have a biological anomaly or something.”
“They didn’t treat you well,” he says and his gentle tone surprises me.“I’m sorry for that, Florence.”He brushes my hair back, brows furrowing as he looks into my eyes, causing my breath to hitch in my chest.For some reason, I believe him.He really is sorry I was treated like shit by the Russos.
“Thank you,” I say.“No one has ever said that before.”
“That’s a shame,” he goes on.“Humans have feared what they don’t understand for as long as they’ve been on this earth.”
“You’ve seen a lot.”
“I have, over the last seven centuries, give or take fifty years.”
“Man, you’re old.”
He laughs, and it’s genuine, bringing a light to his dark blue eyes.“At least I don’t feel my age.”
“How old were you when you were turned?”I ask, unable to pin an exact age down.A twenty-five-year-old from the 1300s probably looks older than a twenty-five-year-old today.
“I think I was close to twenty-eight.”
“You think?”
“The end of my human life was complicated,” he starts.“And most of it has been removed from my memory.”
“Oh,” I reply, not expecting that.“I almost forget all vampires were human before they turned.”
“Nearly all humans seem to forget that.Most, willingly.”
My head slowly bobs up and down, eyes locked on his.“It’s hard to see someone as a monster when we can relate.I don’t think it’s a stretch to assume a big majority of vampires were victims in some way.”
“You aren’t wrong, though, once turned, I’ve only met a small handful of vampires who wished they weren’t.”He holds my gaze steady but a tiny bit of emotion crosses his face.
“Were you glad you were turned?”
“The plague was in full force at the time.I got sick.So yes, I am glad I was turned.”
“It’s so weird to think you were alive in the 1300s.”I slowly shake my head back and forth.“You’ve seen so much.”
“A lot of good.A lot of bad.”
